


But his heart doesn't beat like ours...

by gerard_needs_to_chill



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Creepy Gerard, Frerard, M/M, Shy Gerard Way, Sub Gerard Way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerard_needs_to_chill/pseuds/gerard_needs_to_chill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero is tired of a single life, and wants to spice it up. Desperate, he goes out, planning to hire a hooker, but at the end of the night he ends up with someone whose existence Frank didn't even consider possible... *frerard oneshot*</p>
            </blockquote>





	But his heart doesn't beat like ours...

**Author's Note:**

> The only piece with a happy ending I've ever written; enjoy

“Yes! Fuck yes baby, don’t stop! Ride me, ride me good! I think I’m gonna… I’m gonna… AHHHH!”  
  
I pause the DVD and turn off the TV, carelessly throwing the remote on the couch beside me.  
  
Flesh. Giant, absolutely, rediculously unrealistic genitails. Erections. The slapping sound of skin on skin contact. Crazy, supposedly mind blowing ejaculations.  
  
My head is spinning from all the sex, it annoys me to no ends, like a pack of tiny barking chihuahuas fighting over a meatloaf. These DVDs push me to exhaustion, suck all my energy out of me, and I can do nothing about it. I can’t even stop watching them; if I do, it will just feel wrong in a strange sense I don’t quite understand.  
  
By now they are a part of a ritual which I feel almost obliged to do every day before masturbation. First I watch a video, then I jack off. The tapes are somewhat like snacks before the main meal- they are supposed to arouse my appetite. It’s been a long time since I really enjoyed it though. By now it really is a habit, something I simply can’t fall asleep without. An addiction would sound too rough, but when you think about it, that’s all it really is.  
  
Except for, once again, you usually feel pleasure from the things you are addicted to. You want to do them again and again. And I don’t, not even an ounce. Ejaculation has gained an abstract purpose in my life- it’s for me to think about the good and the bad in this world, the exchange of DNA which could have happened if I wasn’t so damn lonely.  
  
However today, I don’t want to think about that. Today I want to feel a real, warm human body writhing under me in pleasure, moaning out my name. I want to cum somewhere other than my own hand, which has been my only lover for what seems like ages. I don’t want to flush my sperm down the toilet, tonight, I want to make use of it.  
  
I quickly get undressed and step into the shower. The translucent lukewarm water pours down my body in thin strings, and instead of calming me down, it’s arousing me even more.  
  
You’re just a horny idiot, who couldn’t even keep the only love he’d ever had…  
  
In my soul, together with me, there are women. They kiss me, caress me, show me their private parts, unproportional just like in classic porn movies, and no matter how much I try to get rid of them, they never leave. My imagination is rich to the point it terrifies me, and I don’t even like women. I’m fucking gay.  
  
I get dressed.  
Take a pack of cigars off the counter and stick it into my pocket.  
Turn off all the lights in my apartment and lock the door.  
Leave the house.  
It’s more than chilly, it’s actually freezing, I should have taken another jacket, but I am not meaning to go back now.  
  
I quickly slip into my car and drive, not really caring about the direction I’m going in. Right now is about 9 nine in the evening, and the selling of bodies has already begun. Just what I need.  
  
Yes. I am going to take a prostitute for the night, how desperate am I?  
  
I follow the line of other cars onto a parking lot surrounded by bushy trees.  
Brazilians stand on the side of the road, tall, naked, impudent. Strange, beautiful creatures. They laugh, quarrel, and aren’t scared of the cold. Overly tight panties show off their junk, stiletto heels make them look as tall as trees.  
  
One transexual with rich, curly, shiny blond locks peeks his head into the window if my car. One of his hands snakes inside and he rests it on my lap. His hands are extremely large, and in other time of the day they are probably busy with something different. Like a proper job, for example.  
  
He looks at me as if I’m exactly what he has been waiting for his whole life.  
  
“Good evening,” he says with a cheeky smile, batting his long, fake eyelashes.  
  
“Good evening,” I reply.  
  
“What’s your name, cutie?”  
  
“Frank,”  
  
“Hello Frank,”  
  
“And who are you?”  
  
“Margo,” he pauses, looking me up and down. “You wanna have some fun?” he asks.  
  
“How much?”  
  
“I’ll lower the price for you,”  
  
“How much?” I ask again, starting to get a little annoyed.  
  
“I’ll take you in my mouth for 60, and we can go all the way for 100,”  
  
“You’re a thief, Margo!” I laugh and he smiles again.  
  
“Maybe, but you’ll die of happiness,”  
  
I stand in the line of cars, hesitant about what to do next. Finally I make up my mind. I give “Margo” a short shake of the head and he removes his hand, pressing it to his fake chest. He watches me for a long moment before I press on the gas pedal and drive off, trying to get as far from them as possible. Their angry shouts fill the air, and in the back mirror I can see them frantically unbutton their thin shirts, trying to show me off their goods in case I suddenly change my mind and come back. I ignore them.  
  
As I drive on, the noises slowly die out. They were so loud I bet the police is already on its way, and I can’t help but feel kind of sorry for them.  
  
But I don’t want to spend a night with a brazilian transvestite.  
  
The question is, what do I want, really?  
  
I want a young white guy. Inexperienced, but knows how to do just about anything. Romantic and vulgar. Arousing and shy. I will not take anything less.  
  
I drive on for what seems like forever on an abandoned road. Suddenly a silhouette of a tall boy catches my eye. He is walking alone on the sidewalk, his head hung low as he practically drags his feet along the pavement. I am in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by endless fields, what is he doing here?  
  
Selling his body, a voice in my head tells me, and I can’t find a reason not to agree with it.  
  
I turn my car 180 degrees and approach him. I roll down the window and he takes several hesitant steps towards me.  
  
He’s really pretty. By the looks of it, he’s about 20; His short hair is dirty blond, slicked back. He’s tall and slim. He’s dressed in combat boots and plain white T-shirt underneath a black leather jacket, his skinny jeans highlighting his well-built thighs.  
  
He looks around, as if making sure that nobody is watching, and stands next to my car, leaning down a little to poke his head inside. His hands are in his pockets, and he’s chewing a gum.  
  
“You’re gorgeous. How much?” I ask, lowering down the volume of the music.  
  
“I don’t know,” he replies casually, singing the vowels. “Not too much,”  
  
“And not too much is how much?” I ask, remembering Margo who apparently lowered the price for me.  
  
“How do you think, how much will it cost for you to spend the night with me?” he leans against the car. He looks nervous and exhausted at the same time, and I can’t help but feel empathy towards him.  
  
“Ugh, I don’t know,” I reply.  
  
As for me, I wouldn’t mind paying him 300, he’s definitely worth it.  
  
“You cost 150” I finally say, trying to sound confident. I am pretty sure he’s going to ask for more since he obviously deserves it, but I am still going to try and get him for cheaper.  
  
He stops to think for a moment, lifting his eyes up to the night sky and furrows his eyebrows. He frowns slightly, counting in his mind before turning his gaze back to me.  
  
“Agreed. Should I get in?”  
  
“Yeah, of course, get in, get in,” I say quickly, surprised that he didn’t try to raise the price.  
  
He slips into the passenger seat next to me, leaning back slightly.  
  
“I like your tattoos,” he utters, his cold fingers brushing my forearm. “What’s this?”  
  
“Lady of sorrows. It’s a reference to a song actually. And thank you,”  
  
“You have a pretty car,” he continues thoughtfully, looking around.  
  
“Thanks. Where are we going?”  
  
“Drive straight,” he orders, finally settling in his seat.  
  
I start up the car and almost immediately place my hand between his legs, but he pretends to not notice. He doesn’t spread them, but as I palm him softly a quiet groan falls off his lips.  
  
Around us I see several parking lots where we could stop and get on with it.  
  
“Should we stop here?” I ask him; I’m a bit tired of driving, plus I’m so aroused it’s uncomfortable. However he only shakes his head.  
  
“Listen, in about 300 meters there’s going to be a turn to the right. Drive there,”  
  
“Where are you taking me?”  
  
“To my place,” he replies indifferently.  
  
“To your place?”  
  
Fuck, this is better than I expected it to be. I thought we’d just do it in the car, but it turns out I’m going to get to fuck him on a bed.  
  
Cool.  
  
The guy nods, continuing to chew on his gum.  
  
I obediently turn right just as he ordered.  
  
“Almost there,” he utters as we pass several old, graffitied houses that, to be honest, make a chill run down my spine.  
  
We drive for about 200 more meters before stopping in front of an old, unsteady-looking house - it looks as if it’s about to fall apart.  
  
Three floors, tiled roof, naked plaster covered in cracks. On the top floor there’s a dim light- the only indicator that it’s actually possible to live here.  
  
The guy leaps out of the car, practically skipping towards the terrifying house.  
  
“Hey!” I call out to him and he turns around. “Are you sure no one’s going to steal my car?”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” he replies with a smile, flashing his white teeth. I follow close behind, keeping my eyes on him. I take a note of his ass- it’s really nice.  
  
He takes the keys out of his front pocket and unlocks the door, gesturing for me to come inside and I wordlessly obey. He turns on the neon light, sharp and unnatural. A living room. A TV. Most of the furniture, including the big couch in the corner, is still wrapped in polyethylene. A round table, in the middle of which there’s a pizza plate. On the pizza plate there’s a pot with dry, dead flowers. The walls are bare cement- white and sharp to the eye. On the walls there are pastel paintings of sad clowns.  
  
“Get undressed!” the guy tells me.  
  
“It’s… it’s a bit cold here,” I say. To be honest this place is kind of freaky, and I’m not sure if I regret picking him up now.  
  
“I’ll go upstairs and turn on the heat,”  
  
“Are we… are we gonna do the thing here?”  
  
“Yeah, on the couch,”  
  
“Okay,” I reply, trying to look oblivious to my not-so-pleasant surroundings.  
  
She climbs up the stairs and disappears out of sight. I shiver.  
  
I look around the room. There are no batteries here- the heat has absolutely no way to get in. This is getting weirder and weirder.  
  
Even though it’s cold, I’m still aroused. The little Frankie is asking to be let out and touched, and the temperature isn’t going to stop me.  
  
I pull of my jeans and throw them onto the dusty floor, leaving only my T-shirt and boxers on. I like it when other people undress me, it turns me on.  
  
Finally the guy appears, still chewing on the gum. He slowly pulls off his jacket, then his T-shirt, revealing a pale, milky chest. I gesture for him to come a bit closer and he does, smiling innocently at me. I wrap my arms around him, placing my palms on his back and pull him closer. He immediately tilts his head backwards, giving me an access to his neck, and I hungrily place my lips on the tender skin. He lets out a moan and my hands move down to his jeans, fingers sliding into the space between the leather belt and the fabric. I unzip his pants and pull them off. The guy doesn’t protest.  
  
He pushes me off slightly, giving himself more space to step out of the jeans, which are now pooled around his ankles. He looks up at me before practically launching himself onto the polyethylene-covered couch, pushing me on it together with him. He is now lying right on top of me, kissing me wildly, our tongues tangling together.  
  
He groans, grinding our crotches against each other softly, gradually increasing the speed. I slide my hand between our bodies and slip my it into his boxers, feeling him. He’s already fully hard, and I feel the precum on my fingers. I slowly stroke him- I don’t want to hurry it, but he seems to have different plans.  
  
“Mhh, please, please enter me,” he moans out, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. I am so aroused that by this point I don’t even care- I just want to fuck his brains out.  
  
I let my hand play with his balls for a moment before pulling it out.  
  
“Suck,” I say, pushing my fingers into his mouth. He parts his lips, sucking my digits inside himself. He hums around them, and the vibrations make me go wild.  
  
After he’s slicked me up, I slide my hand back into his boxers, placing my index finger near his hole. He only moans.  
  
‘You like that, yes? You want me to fuck you good? You want me to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk?” I growl into his face, and not even because he looks desperate, but just because when I say these kinds of things I myself get extremely turned on.  
  
I pull my own boxers off and throw them behind the couch, not even giving a shit anymore. I grab my length, starting to pump my boner. The guy flips us around so that now he’s lying on the polyethylene and I’m on top.  
  
I slowly insert my finger inside of him, feeling his muscles clench.  
  
“AAAARRGHH!” I scream. A horrible pain in my ear, as if I just burnt it on the stove. I open my eyes- someone is twisting my ear in a metal grip, as if meaning to completely rip it off.  
  
“What are you doing?” A deep, threatening voice booms behind me. The next thing I know is that I, completely naked, am being dragged off the couch by the ear and thrown onto the floor. I try to stand up, but the man kicks me in the face. The taste of blood fills my mouth, and I am scared to check if my lips and gums are okay, which is probably not the case.  
  
I’m being beaten by a short, muscular middle aged man. Grey hair. His nose is like a pig’s. Wild eyes. His wicked smile shows what’s left of his teeth.  
  
In his hand he’s clenching a huge knife, the type that you’d cut bread with.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asks again, taking a step towards me.  
  
“Who… me?” I reply, trying to stand up again. This time the kick comes to my ribs, and it pushes me back onto the floor.  
  
“You!”  
  
“Me?!”  
  
“Yes, you!”  
  
“I will pay, I will pay,” I mumble. Money seems like the only solution right now.  
  
“Dad, leave him alone, don’t hurt him,” the boy says, pulling on his boxers. He looks down at me with a hint of pity in his eyes, but that quickly disappears too, leaving him with a stone expression, like a statue.  
  
I’m scared.  
  
I’m scared to death and I can’t help but stare at the fucking knife in the man’s hand.  
  
I’m going to be gutted like some farm animal. Daddy and son together. They’ll wrap my bloody remains in this goddamned polyethylene and throw them out. That’s why the couches are wrapped in it- they don’t want to get everything dirty.  
They always do it like this, they’ve got experience.  
  
I know.  
  
I feel sick.  
  
“What did you want to do to my son, you asshole?”  
  
“Nothing, I swear!”  
  
“What do you mean- nothing? Why were you lying on top of him, like a beast?  
  
I don’t know how to reply to him. I start crying, and I can taste the sweet irony blood mixed with salty tears.  
  
“What did you want to do to him?”  
  
Why is he asking me again? Isn't it obvious what I was going to do to him?  
  
“Are you going to reply or not?” He kicks me in the stomach and I scream, hoping somebody will hear.  
  
The guy is seating on the couch, his chin propped on his hands. He’s still chewing the fucking gum as if nothing’s happening. He’s staring blankly at me, and I can’t bring myself to say a word.  
  
“So?” the man asks again.  
  
“...I wanted… wanted… I wanted to make love to him. I will pay, I will pay for everything, I promise,”  
  
“Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Now stand up,”  
  
He grabs my hand, pulling me up to my feet. He pushes me onto the couch next to his son, who has already plugged his earphones in and is now nodding to the music.  
  
“Wait a second,”  
The father comes up to me, lifting my damaged upper lip and carefully looks inside.  
  
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not too bad, it’ll heal,” he says, straightening his back.  
  
“What do you want from me? Money? Car?”  
  
“Nooo, nothing of that kind. I’m not interested in that. I want you to continue doing what you were doing with Mikey,” he nods towards the boy next to me on the couch. “I want you to copulate. I want you to have sex. But not with Mikey, but his brother Gerard. You’ll see, you’ll like it,”  
  
“W-what Gerard?” I ask shakily, miserable.  
  
“He looks okay, and he really wants to have sex, my poor child. It’s his time now,”  
  
He grabs me by the ear again, making me shriek, and drags me through the living room.  
  
“Where are you taking me? Where are you taking me?”  
  
He drops me as we reach a door in the corner. He pushes it open, and behind it there’s complete darkness. I can only make out an outline of the stairs in front of me, but the deeper they are, the more invisible they become.  
  
“Go on, Gerard’s waiting for you down there,”  
  
I fall to the floor and crawl on all fours. I grab the leg of the table and hold on for dear life, begging for mercy, a human mercy.  
  
The man kicks me again.  
  
“Hey, easy there,” he laughs through his missing teeth before roughly grabbing me by the hair. He lifts me up from the floor, spins me around and shoves me into the door. I try to stand on the spot, but he’s much stronger. He picks me up as if I’m weightless and throws me inside.  
  
“NOOOOO!” I shriek and fall into the darkness. The door shuts close with a loud boom, which echoes around me.  
  
I stumble down the stairs, deepening into the basement. I heavily and awkwardly fall on the cement steps, banging my head. In front of me I can see flashing red lights and purple circles. I try to move but fail, trying to regain my breath and senses.  
  
I slowly start crawling up the stairs, one after another like a squashed spider, approaching the door which now seems so far away. I weakly wobble the handle just to find it locked from the outside. I start banging my knuckles on it.  
  
“Open up, bastards! Fucking let me out!”  
  
They don’t obey, in fact, I can’t hear a single sound from the outside. They’ve probably left the house to let me rot on my own.  
  
I’m cold, I only have a T-shirt on, and my limbs feel numb. I start banging on the door again.  
The air down here is damp, and the air smells weird, foul. As if something went bad here.  
  
A disgusting smell of death.  
  
“Please, please let me out. For god’s sake, open the door. Take my car and my money, just let me out. Please have mercy, I beg you, I beg you…” I repeat quieter and quieter. This goes on for a long time before i finally decide to go all the way downstairs.  
  
It’s a badly-lit basement, and the earth works as the floor. In the furthest part of the room, I can see a bed and a TV. On the bed I can see a faint outline of a body.  
  
“Excuse me?” I croak out, trying to get some attention. I lower my hands down, trying to cover up my private parts.  
  
“Who’s there? Come closer,” a young female voice calls out. I thought Gerard is a boy’s name?...  
  
“I’d love to, but I don’t have any boxers on…”  
  
“Don’t be ashamed. I want you to feel like home,”  
  
I hesitantly come closer, not removing my hands and observe the body.  
  
It is, after all, a guy, and an extremely attractive one. Long black hair splattered across the pillow, snow-pale skin, straight, sharp and slightly perky nose, big dark eyes, surrounded by long eyelashes, a hint of cheekbones and eyebrows that should never be shaped. And soft, tender pink lips. He is lying on the bed, motionless, the blanket dragged up to his neck, covering all of his body.  
  
“I’m Frank,” I say as kindly as possible. So far Gerard hasn’t tried to eat my brains, so that must be a good sign.  
  
“Nice to meet you Frank,” Gerard says. I can now hear that it’s a male’s voice- it’s slightly high pitched and somewhat croaky. His lips part in a smile, revealing a row of small white teeth.  
  
“Did you come here for me?” he asks, looking up at me.  
  
“For what?”  
  
“To… to make love to me. Dad said he’d look for someone… Is it you?” he looks scared and miserable, and I see his cheeks redden up in embarassment.  
  
“Yes, your father asked me to do you such a favour,” I’m trying to sound intelligent, but in reality I have no idea what’s going on.  
  
“You know, I have one problem…” Gerard mutters, flicking his gaze away from me. “Are you sure you want to do this? I wouldn’t want you to regret it later. Plus, I’ve never done this before…”  
  
“No problem,” I interrupt. “Seriously. It’s easy, just let me…”  
  
I step closer and lean down, seling my lips to his. His eyes close and he relaxes. I take the tip of the blanket between my fingers and slide it off him.  
  
Shit!  
  
I’m blinded by a metallic sheen. Instead of arms and legs he has metal prostheses. Terminator. A cyborg.  
  
“Look, it’s all German technology!” I exclaim, trying to sound confident but my voice breaks. “Look,” I say, pointing at his calves and running my finger along the metal. ‘This part comes from a Porsche, I fixed it into my car myself a year ago,” I pause to take a breath, not sure what to do or say next as Gerard stares up at me in disbelief. The poor thing probably expected me to faint or scream.  
  
“How did this happen?” I quietly ask after a moment of silence.  
  
“When I was ten I had this hobby of jumping out of cars while they were still driving. It was dangerous, but nobody really tried to stop me. Then one day right at the moment when I was jumping out, one of the cars turned right, another left, entering two parallel lanes. I was between them and… Now I never leave this room. They are ashamed of me. Tell me, am I getting rusty?”  
  
“Noo, of course not,” I say, leaning down to kiss his lips again. I climb on top of him and his metal limbs wrap around me, pulling me closer, but I don’t mind at all.  
  
He’s amazing for a virgin.  
  
In the process I hear the noise produced by the metal joints, the rustle of servomotors, the buzzing of bearings...  
  
We do it in all possible positions. Back, front, standing, sitting, lying…  
  
In an hour, I’m deadly tired to the point I can hardly move.  
  
We lie together on the bed, my hand firmly holding his, his head rested on my shoulder. His hair is tickling my nose and I carefully brush it away, trying to not startle him.  
  
“Did you like it?” I ask him and he looks up at me.  
  
“A lot, really… At some point I felt something weird, but it felt good,”  
  
“it’s normal. That’s the whole point of sex,” I say. Gerard nods and nuzzles closer into me. Carefully, without disturbing him, I reach for my T-shirt on the floor. I take a pack of cigars out of the pocket.  
  
“Do you want one?” I ask Gerard as he turns to look back at me in confusion.  
  
“Sure. But I’ve never smoked before,”  
  
I explain to him how to breathe in the smoke and how to let it out through your nose. He gets it from the first try.  
  
I like watching him hold the thin stick in his metal claws; there’s something mesmerising in it, and I can’t help but remember Edward Scissorhands.  
  
“Gerard… why did you want someone so badly?” I ask. From what I figured, if you are never exposed to things like sex and drugs, you are never going to crave them. Gerard has been locked down here since he was 10, so he was just entering his puberty.  
  
He sighs heavily. “I’m always alone. Father and Mikes hardly visit me, so I just watch the TV whole day long, and it gets so lonely sometimes… Sex wasn’t even my idea, it was Dad’s. He said I needed to spice up my life, and having a conversation with someone just wouldn’t do it…”  
  
“Why didn’t you… Why not with a girl?”  
  
“I can’t top. I’m too cold to, you know, enter anyone…” Gerard’s voice cracks and he hurriedly turns away from me, facing the TV. His eyes shine with wetness, and I realise that I shouldn’t have tried to deepen the topic.  
  
I squeeze Gerard’s hand hard and he tries to yank it away, but I don’t let go.  
  
“Gerard, Gerard listen to me…” I whisper frantically into his ear, kissing the top of his head. My heart is booming and I can’t even hear my own thoughts. “Gerard, please come with me, I beg you. We could be happy together, I’d take care of you till your last breath…”  
  
Gerard stares at me in disbelief, his beautiful eyes wide, blinking at me. I lean down to kiss him on the lips.  
  
“Gerard, I could make your life heaven, just come with me…”  
  
“I’ll cause you so much trouble,” he breathes out almost inaudibly, and a tear slides down his cheek.  
  
“You won’t, you are the best thing that has happened to me in my whole life… I love you just the way you are,” I catch a breath, waiting for a reaction from the poor pale mechanical boy in front of me.  
  
“Are you going to regret it later?” he asks naively after a moment of silence.  
  
“No, never, not even for a second, I promise,” I reassure him and he nods. He then seals our lips together.  
  
“Thank you,” he mumbles against my mouth.  
  
Gerard stands up, as if he’s some kind of an electric doll. I pull my T-shirt on him and wrap his blanket around myself. I grab his cold, partially metal hand and practically drag him upstairs. I hesitate in front of the door when suddenly Gerard walks right past me and, with what looks like a simple push, bursts the door open. He walks out and I follow him.  
  
We find Mikey and their father in the living room, peacefully eating mac and cheese.  
  
“I’m sorry sir, but I’m crazy about your son, Gerard, and I.. I’m taking him with me,”  
  
The man looks up from his food and his face goes red with anger.  
  
“What the fuck?” he screams at me. “What do you think you’re doing? You don’t know Gerard, your job was to fuck him!”  
  
He leapes at me and his fingers wrap around my throat, pressing down. Just as my vision starts getting interrupted by black spots, Gerard pushes him off me.  
  
“Sorry dad,” he mumbles and we exit the house.  
  
I grab Gerard’s hand and he turns to look at me, a light blush covering his cheeks.  
  
“We’ve got the world to see,” I tell him and he nods, leaning in to kiss me.

 

 


End file.
